I watched the girl as she waded knee deep in the swamps and reefs.

I watched as she was flailing in the bushes.

How could I not?

She made enough ruckus to raise the dead.

Her feeble attempts to pry the chest from my fingers only resolved my ire.

Did she think the gold would somehow usher her off of the island?

What a fool!

The gold is a curse, a mere tool.

Soon she will be no more than a pile of bones on a desolate isle-

Just like me.